


When We Go Out, We Go Together

by snipershezz



Series: Yondu Week 2017 [8]
Category: Guardians of the Galaxy - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Fic, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Ghosts, Granddaddy Kraglin, Imaginary Friends, M/M, Magic, Weird Space Magic, dad peter, it's all soft and squishy here people, life after death, maybe with a touch of angsty-ness, pathetically emotional and deals with my feels in the floofiest way possible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-09
Packaged: 2019-01-11 00:42:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12311250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snipershezz/pseuds/snipershezz
Summary: “I wish Yondu were here ta see just how perfect ya is.”  He murmurs to the tiny bundle in his arms.  He fishes around in a jumpsuit pocket and places a necklace over her little head.  The pendant is made from yaka.  It had taken him quite some time to work the metal into the little arrow shape, but it had been worth it.  It was silly but, the thought of some part of Yondu being with her – protecting her – it made him feel good in ways he hadn’t for five years.  “This is so you’ll always have yer other Granddaddy wit’ ya.”Yolanda doesn’t react, instead, looking over Kraglin’s shoulder.  Her eyes light up and she gives a huge gummy grin, “Gah!”Kraglin chuckles, “Yeah, gah.”Sequel to: Tell Me You Love Me One Last Time





	When We Go Out, We Go Together

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel for ‘Tell Me You Love Me One Last Time’ I knocked together the other day. It came to me while watching Z Nation of all things lol I wrote this because that fic made me sad and I’m absolutely incapable of leaving something so angsty :p
> 
> EDIT 09-01-2018: So, I like to go through my stories at the end of every year and see how my writing style has changed, I realised suddenly that I never did that in 2016. I didn't make forty-eight works in four days but I gave it hell and managed twenty-one, so yay me lol I'm finishing the rest off and then I'll begin uploading again :) Updated with minor editing :) Happy New Year ya'll!

When Peter holds Yolanda in his arms, with her tiny mint coloured fist shoved into her mouth, Kraglin can’t help but feel like a proud Granddaddy.

So, when he smiles up at the Hraxian and hands the tiny bundle over, he clutches her like she’s made of glass.  Bright blue eyes blink up at him and she pulls the fist from her mouth, she gives him a wide gummy smile and he feels like his heart is going to burst, “Hi Landi.” He says, stroking a hand across her black hair.

Kraglin hadn’t known he could be so gentle until she was born; life as a Ravager first mate makes you forget you’re capable of such things.

His eyes fill with tears, “I wish Yondu were here ta see just how perfect ya is.”  He murmurs to the tiny bundle in his arms.  He fishes around in a jumpsuit pocket and places a necklace over her little head.  The pendant is made from yaka.  It had taken him quite some time to work the metal into the little arrow shape, but it had been worth it.  It was silly but, the thought of some part of Yondu being with her – protecting her – it made him feel good in ways he hadn’t for five years.  “This is so you’ll always have yer other Granddaddy wit’ ya.”

Yolanda doesn’t react, instead, looking over Kraglin’s shoulder.  Her eyes light up and she gives a huge gummy grin, “Gah!”

Kraglin chuckles, “Yeah, gah.”

* * *

 

Time flies by and Kraglin can hardly believe Yolanda’s already one.  She sits on the floor of the Quadrant, surrounded by toys but, ignoring them in favour of – tapping at nothing with her open palms.

Kraglin watches, amused, before leaning over to Peter and asking, “What’s she doin’?”

Peter looks over and chuckles, “She’s – playing patty cake?” He shakes his head, “I didn’t teach her that.” He shrugs it off, “Musta seen it on one of her shows.” He smiles a little and when Kraglin asks him what, he says, with a hint of sadness, “I taught Dad how to play patty cake once.”

Kraglin’s mind supplies an image of an eight-year-old Peter teaching his captain – the most prickly man that ever lived – a child’s game and he laughs for the first time in what feels like years.

* * *

 

When Yolanda is four, they are all seated around the dinner table.  The girl – as stubborn as both her parents – is attempting to cut her own meat.  The knife slips and the girl utters heartily, “Flark!”

Everyone’s eyes go wide collectively and Peter scowls, “Yolanda Alyssa Quill! Where the _hell_ did you hear that word?”

The small girl looks guiltily over Kraglin’s shoulder and then back her father, “Poppy says it sometimes when they’s a grumpy.”

Everyone looks at Kraglin and he shrugs, “Dun look at me, tha girl calls me Pa not Poppy.”

“Sorry Poppy.” She says, but she isn’t looking at Kraglin, she’s got her eyes off to the side.

Kraglin looks over his shoulder and then back at the girl, “Who are ya talkin’ to Landi?”

“Poppy! Ma friend, but only I can see! Taught me pattie cake an’ makes tha light dance fer me.  We friends!”

Peter shrugs, “Imaginary friend.  Normal kid thing, don’t worry.”

Yolanda plasters a scowl on her face that reminds him a little of Yondu – if he had been a small mint green waif of a girl. “Poppy ain’t imaginary! Real!”

Peter smiles – the one he always uses to placate the girl, “Of course she's real, sweetie.”

* * *

 

The girl’s ten when Kraglin walks into the shooting range to see her holding a plasma pistol.

“So, if I hold it like this ma shoulders will absorb tha recoil?”  There’s a pause as she looks to the side, “Dad says I ain’t allowed.”  She laughs and Kraglin tips his head curiously.  “Ya crazy Poppy I ain’t gonna tell ‘im tha’.  He’d tan ma ass as purple as Pa when he blushes.” She scrunches up her nose, “Gross Poppy.”  Her stance changes, “We do?”  She turns to see Kraglin leaning against one of the cages.  “Oh – uh – Hey Pa.  C – can you maybe not tell Dad I was – uh – in here? He’d just worry.”

Kraglin raises an eyebrow, “Ya think I don’t?”

She clicks the gun safety on, placing it down on the shelf, “I’m fine.”

“Are you?”

Yolanda gives him an odd look, “Of course.”

Kraglin wonders.

* * *

 

At fifteen Yolanda is a live wire.  All quick wit and sharp tongue.  It reminds Kraglin ridiculously of Yondu, but he figures the man had raised Peter so why wouldn’t some of that have rubbed off on the boy?

He hears whistling that’s so familiar it’s like a punch to the gut.  He races towards the sound and finds the yaka arrow flying as smoothly as it had twenty years ago.

Kraglin watches in awe as Yolanda controls it like she was born to do it.

“Landie?” His voice is raspy.

The girl turns, smiling, “Hey Pa.”

“H – how?” He asks when he sees no fin on her head.

She raises her wrists and around them are two cuffs a hands width wide.  They pulse with light as the arrow hovers in the air.  Seeing the lights is almost like seeing Yondu again and his eyes fill with tears.

“Where did you get the yaka?” He manages to keep his emotions in check, but only barely.

She glances to the right, then back at him, shrugging, “Found it in the hold.”

He knows that glance. It means her imaginary friend is around.  At fifteen it shouldn’t happen anymore, she shouldn’t be talking to thin air.  It wasn’t normal.  That makes Kraglin worry.

“I could never make it fly that well.” He says instead of what he’s thinking.

She glances to the side again, “Ya think too much Pa.  It don’t come from up here,” she taps her head, “it comes from in here.” She places a hand over her heart.

There’s a hitching sob from behind Kraglin and he turns to see Peter with tears in his eyes.  He smiles at his daughter as says the words Yondu never had a chance to tell him, “I am _so_ proud of you.”

* * *

 

It’s three years later when Gamora insists they do a ship-wide clean.  Yolanda is eighteen and a force to be reckoned with.  Kraglin couldn’t be more proud.

She’s helping him clean Yondu’s cabin – his cabin really – but after twenty-three years he still thinks of it as his captain’s – a habit he never had the heart to break.

The girl – woman really – is running her hands over the trinkets on the side table and smiling.  She picks up a little thing, it’s cute and shiny – Yondu’s favourite kind of trinket – and rubs a finger over the top, “This is his favourite.” She says looking over at Kraglin, “Ain’t ‘cause it’s cute but ‘cause you bought it for him Pa, actually paid units for it.  Ya didn’t have to, could’a nicked it, but ya didn’t.  It means a lot to him.”

Kraglin wonders how she knew that and why she always speaks like Yondu’s still alive.  He smiles, must have told her that story at some point.  He reckons he might be going senile in his old age.

Yolanda places it back down and jiggles the draw handle, “How do ya –” She pauses looking up, “Oh.” She reaches underneath to the button, popping the draw open. “Thanks.” She says to no one.

Kraglin is puzzled.  He’s the only person left alive who knows how to open that draw and he’s _positive_ he’s never told her that.

She bends over, moving the arrow – her weapon of choice since fifteen – so it doesn’t poke her.  The cuffs at her wrists illuminate the draw as she shifts through it reverently.

She pulls out an old picture.  Which frankly, Kraglin had forgotten was there.  It’s of him and Yondu back when he’d first become captain.  Their arms around each other grinning like idiots.  Kraglin moves closer to her as she sits on the bed.

“That were a good day.” He states as she runs her fingers over it.

“Look how young ya both were.” She says fondly.

Kraglin runs a hand over his grey hair and shrugs, “Gettin’ old’s a bitch.”

“Ya never changed tha style.” She comments, smiling up at him.

A hint of a blush touches his face and he fingers the mohawk, “Yer Granddaddy liked it.”

She glances over his shoulder smirking, “Yer still as purty as tha day he met you.”

The sentence is so inherently Yondu, he can almost imagine the words in that gravelly voice.  He’s overcome with emotion – he really shouldn’t be, it’s been twenty-three years, but he is – he excuses himself to use the bathroom.

He leaves the door open a crack.

Leaning over the sink he stares at himself in the mirror.  He’s nearly 75 now, his face haggard and scarred.  Hraxians live a long time – he wonders on the bad days how much longer he can do it without Yondu at his side.  He’s not living like this – not really – there’s no spark in his life – no true happiness, just a facsimile he’s taught himself over the years.  He’s only here for his family – because he loves them.  Had it just been him? Well – he knows what he would have done.  Drawn from his thoughts, he hears Yolanda talking and moves to the door.

Yolanda follows her Pa’s back as he enters the bathroom and she sighs, “I think I upset him.”

“Nah Landie, Kraggles just don’t like ta show no emotions if’in he can help it.”

She smiles at the apparition, “Look how young ya are in this picture Poppy.  Ya don’t even have that scarrin’ what’s on yer face yet.  Ya got most o’ ya teeth too.”

He grinned, “Yeah that were ma first week as cap’n.”

“My handsome Granddaddies.” She ran her fingers over the picture.  Looking up she has tears in her eyes, “I wish ya was still alive Poppy, Pa misses ya so much.”

He crouches in front of the girl, sliding a hand up to cup her face, “Hey now, don’t’chu go blubberin’ like yer ol’ man.  What’s done is done an’ if I ain’t yer Daddy would’a died on Ego an’ then we never would’a had you, an’ believe me Landie you worth a thousand a me. I love ya princess.”

Yolanda puts her hand over his and smiles, “I love you too Poppy.”

Kraglin’s vision is blurry, he blinks and realises he is crying.  He watches his grandbaby stare at nothing with such love and affection in her eyes it almost hurt.

Kraglin knew.  He knew, then.  And he feels like an _idiot_ that it took him so _long_.

Stepping out of the bathroom, his breath hitching roughly, “It’s him innit Landie?”

Yolanda looks up at him.

“Yer imaginary friend? Poppy? It’s Yondu innit?”

She gave him Yondu’s trademark smirk, “I told ya he was real.”

It all makes sense then.  Everything Yolanda has done over the years, every single thing points to her being not just raised by Quill, himself, and their lot but also  _Yondu._

Kraglin smiles and then begins to laugh, because it would just like Yondu to haunt his own damn ship.

“Why can’t tha rest of us see ‘im?”

She looks at where Kraglin now knows _Yondu_ is standing and she shrugs, “He reckons it’s tha universe’s last cosmic joke.”

Kraglin shakes his head, “Damn. All this time, he were right here.”

Yolanda huffs irritably, “I _tried_ ta tell you.  Ya’ll thought I was crazy.”

He flops down on the bed and hugs his granddaughter, “I’m so sorry Landie.”

She hugs him back and whispers into his shoulder, “Poppy says yer an idjit.”

Kraglin can’t help it.  He sobs, but for the first time in twenty-three years it isn’t a sad one, “Yer an asshole Yondu.”

Yolanda growls, “I wish ya could see him.  Talk ta him.”

Kraglin places a hand over her wrist – where the yaka cuff is – and is just about to tell her it’s ok, that it doesn’t matter, it only matters that Yondu is _here_ – when something incredible happens.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees someone he’s only seen in his dreams for longer than Yolanda’s been alive.  His head snaps up to stare at Yondu in the eyes, “C – Cap’n?”

Shock filters through the other man’s features, “Wait – ya – ya can see me?”

Kraglin grins, standing to hug the stupid bastard when the vision disappears.  He hears himself make a choking sound, “No!”

Yolanda – sharp as ever – figures it out instantly, “It’s the yaka Pa!” She pulls off one of the cuffs and holds it out.  “Touch it again!”

When he takes the living metal from her fingers, Yondu appears nose-to-nose with him. “Yondu!”

He smirks, “Kraglin.”

The sheer affection in that one word makes everything in Kraglin’s world tilt back on its axis.

He reaches out and touches the man and he feels _real_.  Gripping his neck, he pulls the Centaurian into a crushing hug.  When he pulls back he stares into those ruby eyes, “I love you.”

Yondu chokes back a sob, blinking repeatedly, “I love you too.  Been tellin’ ya that fer twenty-three years, every night when we go ta sleep.  Ya can finally hear me.”

“You ain’t never left.”

Yondu shook his head, “I ain’t never leavin’ ya darlin’.  When I leave this world, we’s doin’ it tagether.”

Kraglin grips his face in his hands and mashes their mouths together.  The kiss is brutal and filled with passion.

When they pull back, Yolanda is there with her pendant.  She slips it around Kraglin’s neck and kisses his cheek, “When I were a babe, ya gave me a gift; tha ability ta see Poppy, now I’m givin’ it ta you.”

Kraglin has a thought, “We have to tell Peter.”

He finds Yondu nodding as well.

Yolanda takes the cuff back and slips it over her wrist, she heads to the door with a smile on her face, “Take yer time.  Dad’s waited twenty-three years – he can wait a little longer.”

When Kraglin lay in bed that night he can _feel_ Yondu next to him, _see_ the scarred blue skin, and _hears_ the quiet gravelly tone when the Centaurian speaks; “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When Kraglin falls asleep he feels lighter than he has in years.

Everything is right in his world.

**Author's Note:**

> The concept of Hrax and Hraxian!Kraglin comes from the incredible Write_Like_An_American, who's stories I utterly adore <3 (and you should totally go read, like, all of them because they are amazing) So, shout to them for creating it because none of my stories would exist without their ideas :)


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